Disclaimer: Ho, ho, ho, and Merry Christmas! The characters in this story do not belong to me and aren't likely to, unless Marvel (that's who actually owns them, y'see) decides to give them to me for a Christmas present (I've been a good girl, Santa, really!).
Thanks: Many, many thanks go to Melissa Nolen for being my sacrificial lamb – oops, I mean beta reader, and for suggesting the Jubilee/Emma scene and the red silk idea. : ) Trust me, you'll know when you get there! ; )
Also, thanks to Siesta and Guinan for continually urging me to "write the red silk park!" Isn't it strange what slips of the tongue can come to?
Written November 1997.
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White Christmas
by Chastity
Emma Frost sighed thoughtfully as she gazed out of her bedroom window. It was early morning on December 23rd, and the first snow of the winter was just falling. The gay colours of fall, the yellows, reds, browns and oranges, all were gently but quickly being covered in a blanket of purest white.
She had been watching quietly from this window since the very early morning hours, when she had woken to feel the first flakes of snow swirl in through her open window and brush against her exposed skin. She had closed the window, but had been mesmerized by the silent dance of the flakes in the air. She didn't know how long she had been watching, only that no one was up yet despite the sun starting to peek over the distant, misty white treetops.
She couldn't remember when it was that she had last had time to sit, alone and without life demanding anything of her, and simply enjoy nature as she was now. She had duties, things to take care of . . . people to take care of.
She straightened in her chair. With that last unguarded thought, she had reminded herself of reality. A burden had settled heavily onto her slender shoulders, and it would not be dislodged easily, with simple distractions.
Sighing again, she got up. Although she and Sean had given the students the day off for Christmas shopping and no one would be up for some time, she decided that she might as well go downstairs.
Shrugging into an elegant white silk robe to cover her nightdress, she slipped quietly down the stairs without waking anyone. She went into the kitchen and quietly boiled some water – one of the only things she was good at in the kitchen, she thought wryly. She dropped a teabag in the water and settled down again by a window. This time she was in the great living room of the Massachusetts Academy, facing the huge Christmas tree that the students had insisted they get. Even at the early hour the tree's lights were twinkling, having been left on overnight. The multicoloured lights shimmered brightly, the only light in the otherwise dark room.
Emma shifted position on the couch, tucking her feet up under her and sipping at her tea, and continued her sombre line of thought. The mesmerizing blinking lights combined with the soothing warmth of the tea and her own exhaustion, and Emma fell asleep.
Sean, coming downstairs at 6:30 to surreptitiously wrap some presents, found her there. Deciding it would be best to wake her before the kids did, he shook her gently.
"Em," he murmured. She grumbled at him in her sleep, turning away from him to face the wall. Sean tried again, this time shaking her a little harder as well as speaking more loudly. She rolled over again, still asleep, her face more peaceful than Sean could ever remember seeing it. He sighed, realizing that he just didn't have the heart to wake her.
He lifted her cautiously into his arms, taking care not to jostle her awake, and straightened. She shifted in his grasp, snuggling unconsciously up against his chest. Looking down at her, he realized how lovely she was on those rare occasions when she let her guard down. Now, fast asleep, she had no waking worries to crease her face and she was, Sean thought, almost breathtakingly beautiful.
He started for the stairs slowly, carrying her up them until he stood in front of the door to her room. There he stopped for a moment: not having thought this far, he had no idea how he could open the door without dropping her.
He shifted her in his arms carefully, trying to free one hand enough to grasp the door handle, and jarred her slightly.
"Sean?" she mumbled, only half awake.
"Shhh," he whispered reassuringly, reaching for the door handle again. He was startled when she reached up and drowsily twined her arms about his neck, resting her head against his chest.
Still half-asleep, she murmured indistinctly, "What are you doing?"
"Puttin' ye to bed," he answered softly, struggling with the door handle and finally grasping it firmly.
"Oh . . . Did I fall asleep downstairs?" she asked, her foggy mind beginning to clear slightly. "What time is it?"
Sean opened the door and slipped inside. "Aye, ye looked like a child sittin' in front of the Christmas tree an' waitin' for Santa Claus to come!" He chuckled slightly, taking a quick look around Emma's room. As he might have guessed, the room was immaculate and done almost entirely in white. The only exception to both rules was the canopy bed in the middle of the room. Unmade, it was outfitted with black silk sheets and a white duvet. The walls were covered with windows, leaving almost no wall space on one side.
Sean crossed the room to the bed, laying Emma down in it gently. She untwined her arms from about his neck rather reluctantly. It had been a long time since she had been just held, and she had enjoyed the feeling of Sean's arms around her. Sighing, she leaned back in the bed and pulled the covers up around her.
"Sean," she said, as he began to leave the room. He turned around at the threshold. "Thank you," she said simply, the two words containing a wealth of meaning. On one hand she was thanking him for carrying her upstairs, while on the other she was thanking him for caring enough to take the time to do so.
"Ye're welcome," he replied, scrutinizing her seriously before closing the door. As he crept down the still-silent hall, he smiled to himself. With luck, he would be able to wrap Emma's presents before anyone else got up.
After Sean left the room, Emma sat up in bed with a heavy sigh. Now that she was up, she would never be able to get back to sleep again. However, she still had some time before she would be expected back downstairs and she decided to use the time to wrap presents.
Sliding out of bed, she opened the closet and pushed aside some gowns, pulling out a stack of gifts and some wrapping paper. She always did her shopping early.
She settled herself on the floor and picked up the first gift, Jubilee's. She always found it easy to buy gifts for most people, and Jubilee was no exception. Some colourful nail polish and a new trench coat made up Jubilee's present. Pulling out the paper and beginning to wrap, Emma soon found herself taping her hands together. She always did her shopping early because for her it was hell trying to wrap anything!
Finally finishing Jubilee's present, Emma applied herself to Everett's. As he was a devoted science-fiction fan, she had bought him an amalgam of sci-fi movies: Star Wars and Star Trek for the most part. The videos were wrapped without incident, as was Monet's set of Shakespeare, in which she had expressed an interest. For Paige, who had often said that she was a fan of 'golden oldies' music, Emma had a collection of Judy Garland, Barbra Streisand, Frank Sinatra and Harold Arlen music. Angelo's present was Latin music CD's, as Jono's was CD's of some of the foremost English singers. Penance, or Yvette as they were trying to remember to call her, had been easy to buy for; a number of apples were her gift. For Artie, Leech, and Franklin, Emma had some of the newest action figures.
Finally, she sat back on her heels and looked at the stack of wrapped presents in front of her, pleased with herself. Then she looked at the tape in the rug and became a little less pleased.
All that were left for her to wrap were Sean's gifts. Unusual for her, it had taken her a long time to pick out what she thought were perfect gifts for him. Actually, she had gotten two.
The first was a very small thing, really: courtside seats to the next game of the Celtics. She put that in the box and wrapped it without incident. And the other present . . . she smiled at it and slid it into its box, not bothering to wrap it. This she would give to Sean privately.
Downstairs, Sean was sorting through his pile of wrapping paper, trying to find a suitable wrapping for Emma's gifts. He had actually gotten her two: both had seemed so perfect. The first gift was partially a bit of a gag gift: it was also to everyone's best interest. Sean wrapped "Cooking for Dummies: Now, This is an Egg" in red and white striped candy cane paper.
The second gift was something he had been considering for quite a while, and had finally gotten up the courage to actually give to Emma. He wrapped the small box carefully but rapidly in mint-green paper before he could change his mind. He didn't stick it under the tree, however, but set it aside. This he would give to Emma privately.
He quickly set himself to wrapping the rest of his gifts. For Paige, he had a set of "Gone With the Wind" and "Scarlett." For Everett, some games for the video game system. For Monet, some CD's of classical music. For Jono, he had a gift certificate to the electronics store in the mall, as he did for Angelo. For Jubilee, he had gotten a subscription to a few comic books - among them Superman - and a Discman - she had paf'd her last one to pieces. For Penance – Yvette, he corrected himself – he had a chocolate applesauce cake he had baked himself. And for Leech, Artie and Franklin, he had boxes of Christmas candy.
He stuck everything – except for Emma's other present – under the tree and sat back to admire it briefly. He quickly put Emma's present in his room and returned to the living room to watch the tree and wait for the students to wake up.
Emma felt her way down the stairs step by step, fumbling for each step around her stack of wrapped Christmas presents.
"Sean?" she called softly, hoping she could get some help before she pitched down the stairs and broke her neck, "Are you down here?"
Sean emerged from the family room, where he had been watching television. He was still partially focussed on the television, and did not look up at the stairs. "Yes?" he said, still not looking away from the T.V.
Emma shifted her weight and scowled; if she had her hands free, they would have been planted on her hips. She was not a woman who took lightly to being ignored. She decided to try another track.
"Sean," she purred sweetly, "do you think you could give me a hand? I've got some very important things here . . ."
Sean's head whipped around, and he immediately rushed up the steps and relieved Emma of most of her presents. She managed to grab back a few of them before they toppled.
"Thank you!" she smiled, walking lightly down the stairs and depositing the presents under the tree. Sean put his stack down beside hers and was about to say something when they heard a screech from the kitchen.
"OK," Jubilee shrieked, in a voice easily heard throughout the whole house and guaranteed to wake anyone not yet up, "WHO ate the chocolate for today out of my advent calendar?!?!? You're dead meat when I find out!!!"
Sean and Emma sighed in unison and headed to the kitchen to deal with the day's first crisis.
The rest of that day, including the trip to the mall, was unusually uneventful. Emma kept waiting for the other shoe to drop and someone to be fatally injured . . . or for Jubilee to find out who it was who had eaten her chocolate. Both equated more or less to the same thing, anyway.
**December 24th**
Emma woke – far too early, she thought – to hear "CHOCOLATE THIEF!!!!!!!!!!!!" ricocheting through the spacious, echo chamber of a mansion. "How could you!" followed the previous screech, in an only slightly diminished volume.
Groaning, Emma slipped out of bed, not bothering to put on a robe over her nightgown, and padded down to the kitchen in her bare feet. There she found an extremely upset Jubilee, bashing Angelo over the head with her battered advent calendar.
"Chica!" gasped Angelo, his hands and distended skin doing a poor job of protecting his head, "it was only a joke!"
"JOKE!" squawked Jubilee, redoubling her efforts with the advent calendar, which was scattering little chocolate flecks all over the kitchen floor, "I'll 'JOKE' you!! It's chocolate – that's no joke!"
For just a moment, Emma couldn't help herself; she had to watch. It was just too funny to stop immediately.
"Emma," Sean said, coming up behind her quietly and startling her, "what's goin' on here?"
She smiled, turning away from the oblivious teenagers. "Jubilation finally found out who stole her chocolate. I was going to stop them, but . . ." she gestured at the spectacle before them, "I couldn't help myself!" Reluctantly, she added, "I suppose we should intervene, though."
Sean nodded, and Emma psionically told Jubilee, *Jubilation, enough.*
Jubilee lowered the advent calendar slowly and looked at the chocolate scattered over the previously immaculate tile floor.
"Um, sorry," she said, not sounding at all upset, except for the fact that she had squashed the rest of her chocolate. "I'll clean it up," she volunteered unenthusiastically.
"First, I'd like to know what happened," Emma said sternly, firmly repressing a smile.
Both teens started talking at the same time, overlapping each other and each trying to out-shout the other.
"I –"
"She –"
"The –"
"But –"
*Quiet!* Emma said strictly. "Jubilation, you start."
Jubilee ignored the 'Jubilation,' she was so intent in telling her story. "I was, like, hiding in the kitchen an' waitin'. I mean, I figured that if someone was gonna steal another chocolate, I'd catch 'em at it, y'know? So I caught Angelo," she glowered at him again, "sneakin' my candy!" She cracked her ever-present gum as a signal that she was finished.
"Angelo?" asked Sean.
"Well, it was just a joke, Senor Cassidy," Angelo said. "I just thought it would be funny." He looked down at the floor. "Sorry, Jubes," he muttered.
"Accepted!" said Jubilee, "but you owe me . . ." she thought for a minute, "a box of chocolates!" she finished triumphantly.
"Aw, Jubes," Angelo groaned, "have a heart."
"Nope," Jubilee said happily.
"Senorita Frost?" Angelo appealed.
"I think this eminently fair," replied Emma. "You owed Jubilation something, and she has decided what form that debt should take."
"Awright!" said Jubilee, pleased with herself.
Sean took Angelo aside and whispered to him quietly, "Make it a small box of chocolates, lad." Angelo nodded in fervent agreement. His bank account was already depleted enough from Christmas!
Jubilee and Angelo returned upstairs, Jubilee to get some more sleep, and Angelo to empty out his piggy bank and see how small a box of chocolates he could get.
Sean waited until he was sure they were out of range, and then burst into hearty laughter. "Well," he said, "that ought to teach Angelo not to mess with Jubilee!"
"Actually," said Emma, sitting at the table and looking at the chocolate that Jubilee had 'forgotten' to clean up, "I thought they handled that quite maturely."
Sean started laughing again and, after a moment, Emma joined him, realizing how her remark could be taken.
"Seriously, though," she said when they had finished laughing, "Jubilation is becoming more mature of late. Not so long ago, she would probably have handled a situation like this much differently."
"Say, by beating someone over the head?" asked Sean, his eyes twinkling.
"Well . . . yes," Emma admitted. "But at least she handled it well afterwards." She looked at the kitchen clock and groaned. "Why," she asked plaintively, "do crises always have to happen before seven on holidays?"
Sean smiled, "Well, at least we have an early start on the day!" Seeing the murderous gaze Emma directed at him, he quickly added, "You can always go back to bed!"
"I hate morning people," Emma stated flatly, getting out of her chair. "They never know when to quit. I'll never be able to get back to sleep," she added, "so I may as well stay up and see if there's something useful to do." She poured herself a glass of grapefruit juice and passed one to Sean, then looked with disdain on the chocolate-flecked floor. "Tell you what," she sighed, "I'll vacuum the floor if you'll make breakfast." Sean started to protest, but she effectively silenced him with, "Would you rather I made breakfast?" He pulled out the eggs quickly.
The morning passed quickly, and the Gen X kids found themselves with very little to do in the afternoon. They bounced suggestions around for about ten minutes.
"Board games!"
"Television!"
"Tag!"
"Hide and seek!"
Finally, Monet suggested sensibly, "Why don't we finish decorating the house?"
"And listen to Christmas carols," Paige put in.
"And sing along!" Jubilee added enthusiastically.
Everyone agreed, and they loaded the huge sound-system with every CD of Christmas music they could find. They then grabbed huge armfuls of decorations and rushed around the house, decorating every doorway and window frame. Sean and Emma, finishing up the living room, could faintly hear Jubilee whoop, "Monet, you have to kiss Artie! You got caught under the mistletoe with him!" and then loud cheering. Sean exchanged a single glance with Emma. They both shook their heads and, laughing softly, went back to their work.
Later that evening, the house covered in holly, mistletoe, and tinsel from cellar to attic, carols playing, and a fire lighted in the massive fireplace, they all sat in a circle and drank eggnog.
"Hey," Jubilee piped up, "weren't we gonna sing?" A few groans answered her, but as a whole everyone wanted to sing. They sang along with Bing Crosby's "White Christmas," revealing that Angelo had a reason not to sing – couldn't carry a tune in a bucket! – and teaching everyone that Jono could sing psionically as well. Jubilee soloed, amazingly well, with "Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire," then Paige and Monet duetted on "Little Drummer Boy." Everett, in a surprisingly baritone voice, sang "Do You Hear What I Hear," and Sean added "Jingle Bells." Angelo managed to mangle "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" to a round of applause.
Unnoticed among the general clamour, Emma left the room and went outside, standing quietly amidst the softly falling snow. She looked inside, watching how much fun everyone was having with Sean. She sighed, thinking that she could never establish a rapport like that with the students.
"Miz Frost?" Emma whirled around, having neither heard nor sensed Jubilee come out onto the deck. She stood with her hands in the large pockets of her trench coat, watching Emma intently.
"Yes?" she snapped, sounding a bit cooler than she would have liked.
"Um, are we allowed to open one of our presents tonight?" asked Jubilee.
Emma frowned: she didn't see why Jubilee had to come out, since she could simply have asked Sean. "Yes," she answered, wondering where the conversation was going.
Jubilee pulled her hands out of her pockets and held a small, neatly wrapped box out towards Emma. "I'd like to give you mine, then," she said simply.
Emma took the box carefully and unwrapped it. Opening it, she looked up at Jubilee in confusion: the box was empty.
"Jubilation?" she asked. Suddenly, without replying, Jubilee clicked her heels together sharply and stood at attention, snapping off a salute. For just a moment, Emma was totally puzzled: then, suddenly, it came to her – respect. Jubilee was giving her respect. It wasn't something easily earned, Emma knew, and she was very touched. She smiled at Jubilee.
"Thank you . . . Jubilee," she said softly. Jubilee grinned back at her.
"C'mon back inside," Jubilee urged. As they were walking, Jubilee stopped, struck by a sudden thought. "Ya haven't sung yet," she accused Emma. "Aren't ya gonna?"
"I don't sing very often, Jubilee," started Emma.
"Please?" asked Jubilee. Emma sighed.
"If you wish," she agreed. They walked back inside together to hear Everett urging, "Sing another one, Angelo!" and the others dissolved in giggles. They could also hear the last strains of "White Christmas."
"What'd I miss?" asked Jubilee, a little surprised when she saw that M was even laughing.
Through tears of laughter, Everett said, "Angelo's imitation of –" he dissolved into laughter again, then regained control, "Barbra Streisand!" Angelo warbled a few warped bars of "People," as Emma crossed back to her spot on the carpet and the first few bars of "My Favourite Things" entered the room.
*'Ey, Ange, sing this one!* said Jono.
Angelo listened to the music for a moment and shook his head. "Sorry, homme, don't know this one."
"Miz Frost, will you sing?" asked Jubilee. The rest of the teens looked at Jubilee as if she was crazy, and Emma cleared her throat experimentally.
"All right," she agreed. The team's collective jaw dropped. Jubilee smiled smugly.
On the CD, Barbra began to sing,
"Raindrops on roses, and whiskers on kittens,
Bright copper kettles and warm woollen mittens."
Emma cleared her throat again and joined in,
"Brown paper packages tied up with strings,
These are a few of my favourite things."
Everyone exchanged looks, and when Emma had finished they all gave her a standing ovation.
"Jeez, I ain't singin' anymore!" said Angelo.
"Wow," was all Jubilee said.
"Where'd ye learn to sing like that?" asked Sean, looking at Emma curiously.
She shrugged, faintly embarrassed, "I don't know, I just always sang a lot."
*You ever cut a record?* asked Jono.
"No," answered Emma. Then, hoping to turn the focus away from her, she added, "If you'd like, you can all open one of your presents tonight."
There was a mad stampede to the tree. Sean and Emma were left behind.
"Aren't ye going to open a present?" asked Sean.
"I already did," replied Emma, smiling at the thought. "What about you?"
"Whose did ye open?" Sean wondered.
"Jubilee's," Emma answered. She didn't say any more and her expression, while not forbidding, didn't encourage further conversation. Sean turned his attention away from her and focussed on the mass of people surrounding the tree.
Artie, Franklin and Leech were menacing each other with action figures. Paige was already reading "Gone With the Wind." Angelo and Jono were arguing over what they should get with their gift certificates from Sean. Everett was eagerly flipping through some sci-fi books. In a rare moment of fellowship, Jubilee and M were painting each other's nails. And Yvette was having a great time slicing apples and eating them.
Sean got up and headed over to the tree, where he picked up a present and returned to where Emma was sipping eggnog – it was her gift from him. He unwrapped the small, slim box carefully, and gasped when he saw the tickets inside.
"Emma, ye shouldn't have!" he exclaimed. "These must have cost a small fortune!"
"You forget, Sean, that I have a number of large ones," Emma laughed. "It's only money. Just have a Merry Christmas."
"Thank ye, Emma," Sean said sincerely.
The two got up together and headed to the kitchen to refresh their eggnogs. They were stopped short by calls and whistles from the gang crowded around the Christmas tree, "You two are under the mistletoe!"
Emma looked at Sean with mischief in her eyes, and he heard her voice in his head, *Let's give them a show!*
*How flexible are you, Emma?* Sean asked, sending her a mental image of what he had in mind. Her psionic laughter echoed in his head as she replied, *Flexible enough!*
Sean grabbed her in his arms and pulled her to him, bending her backwards slowly. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, suppressing her laughter. She brought her face closer and closer to his, until they were only millimetres apart, each breathing the other's breath. Emma felt something pass between the two of them, something electric . . . and then he dropped her. She landed with a slight thump and a not-completely-mock cry of outrage – he hadn't mentioned dropping her. The teens broke into laughter and spontaneous applause as Sean helped her up. They swept out of the room together.
"Thank you," Emma groused, rubbing her sore backside, as they entered the kitchen. "I'm sure we could have done without that last bit. I hope you had fun."
Sean smiled at her. "Yes, I did. What shall we do when we go back in?"
Emma groaned. "Can I drop you this time?"
Finally, the night was over – rather earlier than usual, as many of the team wanted to go to bed early so "Santa would come earlier."
Emma went to bed and slept restlessly, dreaming of giving her second present to Sean. She worried about what he would think, how he would react . . . whether she was right in giving it to him.
Sean went to bed and slept restlessly, dreaming about when he would give his second present to Emma. He worried about what she would think, how she would react . . . whether he was right in giving it to her.
Everyone else slept dreamlessly, and morning seemed to come almost immediately.
***Christmas Day***
Knock, knock, knock
"Miz Frost?"
Knock, knock, knock
"Wake up, Miz Frost. It's Christmas!"
Thump, thump, thump
"Senor Cassidy?"
Thump, thump, thump
"Get up, Senor Cassidy. It's Christmas Morning!"
Everyone got out of bed and filed downstairs, waiting to tear into the presents until no one was missing. Then they went into a frenzy. Jubilee played Santa's helper, passing - well, tossing - presents to everyone.
"Lessee, this one's fer Hayseed. Heads up! Yo, Ange! Here's one for you! M! Comin' atcha! Ooh! One for me!"
Finally, all the presents were distributed and they could get down to the more serious business of opening them.
Everyone laughed at the expression on Emma's face when she opened her gift from Sean, and she slowly turned to face him. "Should I take this as a not-so-subtle hint?" she asked quietly.
Sean grinned at her. "Ye want to make breakfast today?" He was drowned out by a series of groans.
The rest of the day was quiet, while people either enjoyed their presents or suffered from the aftermath of too much Christmas candy. Sean and Emma were getting their presents ready for the adult X-Men's Christmas party, which they were attending in Westchester that night – the Blackbird was coming up for them.
Sean knocked on Emma's door, his other present for her in his hand. He adjusted his suddenly-too-tight collar as she opened it. To his surprise, she was wearing the same thing she had been earlier in the day.
"Come in, Sean," she said, holding the door wider, "I have something for you." He stepped through the door, marvelling at the pure white of the room. The black of the sheets on the bed drew his attention inexorably to it.
"Emma," he said, "this is for you." He held out the small box nervously.
She took it and peeled off the mint-green paper slowly – agonizingly so, it seemed to Sean – until she could open the box. She gasped with delight. Inside, nestled among tissue paper, was a delicate gold locket on a thin gold chain. She opened the locket wondrously and exhaled sharply when she saw the two pictures inside. One – where had Sean gotten it, she wondered – was of her and the Hellions together. The other was of her, Sean, and Generation X.
"Oh, Sean," she breathed, mesmerized by the locket's perfection, "this is gorgeous! Thank you so much. Here," she turned suddenly, "will you put it on me?" He took the locket and fastened it gently around her neck. She shivered as his fingers lightly brushed her delicate skin.
"I have something for you as well," she said, suddenly shy. She quickly got the box from her closet and presented it to Sean. "I . . . hope you like it."
He opened the box to find a little slip of red silk inside. He lifted it up in confusion: a chemise? Puzzled, he looked at Emma. Although her expression was uncertain, her eyes twinkled merrily. He understood: she was acknowledging that she felt what he did, and that she was hoping they could act on their feelings.
He leaned forward and cupped her cheek in his free hand. "I like it very much," he whispered tenderly. "In fact . . . I love it." Their lips met gently, tenderly, and they explored each other's mouths until they had to break away for air.
"You know," Emma whispered devilishly, "to really appreciate it . . . you need to see it on." She slipped away into her dressing room and returned, moments later, wearing a very small black dress. It came down to a little above her knees and dipped into a V in the front, showcasing her locket nicely, while the back of the dress came down to the small of her back. Sean looked at her, confused, as she picked up her wrap.
She turned around to face him, and the shoulder strap of her dress slid down her arm a bit. Sean's eyes widened as he saw the red chemise underneath.
"You know, Sean, the zipper on this dress has been giving me trouble," she said off-handedly. "Maybe . . . you could give me a hand with it after the party?"
Sean caught up with her at the door. "Mistletoe," he pointed out, drawing her back into her room and kissing her passionately. "Em," he whispered as they left the house and boarded the Blackbird, "I promise ye that I'll enjoy my present fully tonight."
Emma threw back her head and laughed in delight.
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finis.